Every Other Time
by citigirl13
Summary: She doesn't think it, not every time. More like every other time. A slightly dark version of V/B's relationship during the three years. One-shot.


**A/N: **I have no idea where this story came from. But I love _DragonBallZ_, and I would love to write for it more. This idea entered my head and wouldn't let go until I wrote it.

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**WARNING:**** there are dark themes in this story. Read at your own risk.**

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**DISCLAIMER:**** I do NOT own **_**DragonBallZ **_**or any of the characters**

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**Every Other Time**

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It's not every time they do it. If she thought it every time they had sex, she would stop. She would pack her bags and seek shelter with Chi-Chi and Goku and Gohan until all of – until all of _this_ – sorted itself out. She pretends that she would be able to stomach staying with them, not go mad at the lack of technology or Goku's scatter-brain and Chi-Chi's screams. She tells herself she would be able to manage.

(Lying to yourself is so easy.)

She doesn't think it, not every time. More like every _other_ time. Every other time they lie in bed, his throat rumbling as he sleeps, she stares up at the ceiling and tells herself she should end this. Tells herself that it's the stress of the impending disaster coming in the next two and a half years, or that her hormones are acting up, or that it's a one-time thing.

(It stopped being a one-time thing after the fifth time. She just hasn't admitted that to herself yet.)

The other times, she lets herself go, because it's just a bit of fun. Because Yamcha broke up with her – no actually, Yamcha _cheated _on her with the bimbo at the lingerie store (seriously, could he _be _any more of a cliché? What, did he go to get a present for her and she offered to model them for him? Jesus) and she wants to show the asshole what he's missing. Wants to prove to herself that she couldn't care less.

(She does care. A lot. But not because she misses Yamcha. Because she can't believe that he would cheat on her – the heiress of Capsule Corp., the smartest person – well, _ever_ – and probably one of the prettiest too. Does he honestly think he can find someone better than her?)

(Sometimes she worries who she's becoming.)

* * *

He's good in the sack.

When she should be working on weapons to use against the androids, or re-building those stupid bots he keeps on destroying, she thinks about it. Yamcha was her first, and so she never had anything to compare with. And it was always…well, exciting. Pleasant. Nice.

He is different.

Maybe it's the same with all Saiyans. Chi-Chi never talks about what sex is like with Goku (yeah, like, no. The guy's one of her best friends. She does not want to even go there) so she's not sure. Maybe it's the fact that he's practically part animal, the flickering in his eyes when he's angry, the _actual_ sparks that come off his body. Maybe it's something to do with the fact that she's never quite sure what he's thinking.

There isn't a pattern. There's no code. They don't talk about that sort of thing because, well, that's not who they are, is it? They just have sex.

If she thinks about it, she's kinda mad – she's never the one to initiate sex. It's always him: walking in on her in the bathroom, coming into her bedroom in the middle of the night, behind her when she's fixing the gravity machine. Once, in her laboratory, of all places – on the side, her legs wrapped round his waist, his hands on her – during the day, when _anyone_ could have walked in (though people in the lab run miles when they see him coming. Her secretary has taken to hiding the bathroom whimpering like a terrified puppy).

(If Yamcha found out, he would be furious. He had a fantasy of having sex in her lab, a little smirk on his face when he suggested it. She always said no, told him to stop being so childish. But with Yamcha she never understood the fantasy.)

Having sex with Yamcha, her mind would wander. He was good, of course, but that's just how it was. She thought that was normal. With him, she cannot think of anything else. Not one single thing. She's convinced that an asteroid could hit the planet – could hit the building – and she still would be focused on him. His hands grab her roughly, and when he kisses her he practically bites. She whimpers and cries out and digs her nails into him, hard; her entire body fucking _trembles_ when his hands touch him. Her body offers itself to him, and he takes the gift she gives with the nonchalance of a spoilt child.

(She kinda hates that.)

The thought of it makes her smile, not that she wants to, and she bends over her designs and focuses on what she's working on.

(Or rather, she pretends to.)

* * *

When she was younger, she was into all that vampire crap: novels and movies and TV series, loving the drama and the angst and the _pain. _So she knows the warning signs when she starts noticing the bruises.

He's rough, that's a given. He's a Saiyan (the Prince of all Saiyans. He gets so pissed when someone misses that part out it's almost funny) and a pretty animalistic one at that. When they have sex, he's not gentle. He shoves her against walls, pins her on the bed, grips her so hard that the bruises come out in the shapes of fingerprints.

She knows (_thinks_) he doesn't mean it. Knows (_thinks_) that he doesn't even realise he's doing it. And it's not like anyone can see them and question her choices. Most of them are on her body: her hips that he holds, her shoulders, her forearms. And yeah, he bites her once (_nipped_) but it's not like that's out the ordinary, and so what if she has a wear a scarf for a week? She looks good in them.

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One night her parents are out and she comes back from a jog. She's in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water when she hears a noise. Turning round she sees him, standing in the doorway. Usually he would be in the fridge, looking for the food that her mother leaves out for him. But not now. Now he's staring at her.

He approaches slowly, his eyes not leaving her. His muscles are taut, swear glistening off his body. But there's a smirk on his face, a look in his eyes that she remembers all too well from her time on Namek.

(_Don't move Bulma_)

She remembers the look on his face. There was something manic in his eyes on Namek, and she's pretty sure it's been there for most of his life. From what Goku has told her, he's basically been in servitude to Frieza since he was a boy. What has that upbringing made him into?

(_Don't_ fucking_ move Bulma_)

He is right in front of her. She keeps her gaze on him, refusing to lower it, the form of a challenge. Her back is straight, her arms tense, waiting.

He pushes her against the side, bends down and kisses her. She relaxes, her body sagging underneath him.

She feels his mouth turn into a smirk against hers. She wants to move, does move, but his arms encircle round her and keep her in position. He is strong –

\- and she is weak.

(_So, so weak_)

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"It's our anniversary," she tells him over coffee and breakfast (coffee for her, breakfast for him). And she can't believe that it's been a year since they started having sex.

(She can't believe it's been a year and she still hasn't come to her senses.)

He doesn't say anything. She thinks that there should be wine and candles, flowers and presents. Or at least a damn card. But she's not dating a normal person – in fact she's not even sure she can consider it dating.

If this were anyone else, she would tell them to leave. Tell them that they're worth more than they're getting, and that if their boyfriend (fuck buddy or whatever) aren't going to appreciate them, then they don't deserve their love or affection.

But as a teenager she went searching for the Dragon Balls so she could wish for the perfect boyfriend; she would rather go on adventures than sit around watching other people go on adventures on the television. She's never been what people would classify as normal.

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She takes five tests, and then visits the doctor, just to be certain. They confirm her pregnancy.

She doesn't tell him for three months, going back and forth, stressing and worrying and telling herself not to care and wondering if she even wants it. When she finally tells him, it's in bed, and he goes rigid. She sees his eyes change and she clings to the covers, her chest barely moving.

He gets out the bed and leaves.

Just like that, they're done.

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The pregnancy drains her energy, she grows moody and tired and lies in bed a lot. He doesn't visit, doesn't even indicate that he sees her. She grows strong in this, learns to push past him, teaches herself not to care about what he does.

(And no one's any the wiser if the tears stain her pillow at night.)

Giving birth is agonising. She blacks out for a lot of it, and to be honest she's grateful – she doesn't want to remember this. The world is a haze of red when she wakes, _so much blood_, and for a moment she wonders what the hell has happened. She's not even certain that she's alive.

Then she hears him scream.

They hand her to him and she looks into his face. His eyes are already bright blue, and she thinks he's bigger than most babies, but then, he is half-Saiyan. He looks at her and she thinks that she's the first person he's ever seen.

She falls for him right away. No matter who his father is, he is her son, and she will lay down her life for him.

(Later that night, she wakes up and thinks she sees something, the flicker of light, the movement of a shadow. She looks over at her baby, the child she's called Trunks (like his father's going to have a say in the name, he would probably name it after him – and there's no _way_ that's happening) and he's cooing, holding up his chubby arms.

She smiles into her pillow, even though there is no one to see.)

* * *

She comes home, Trunks in toe, rehearsing the speech she has prepared. She's not taking any bullshit from him now. She's a mother, and she has a child to think of. She's not going to let her son think that's it's okay to treat women like shit. If he's not going to respect her, then he's not going to have her.

It's her mother, fussing over her grandson, that tells her he took off in the spaceship.

He's left her, before she got a chance to leave him.

(She never quite gets over that.)

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